Wherever the Wind Blows
by tec4cleveland
Summary: This is a post-war story with two squad characters - Caje and Billy. Billy comes to the bayou ahead of the remains of a hurricane, dealing with the effects of the war and to see Caje. Caje has his own battle to deal with - his father who is in declining health. The two come together when tragedy strikes.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Paulie, we need to head out and bring those logs in."

Paul shut down the plane he'd been running planks through, and came to the door where his _nonc_ was. The older man was standing, head cocked, intent on something only he could see.

"What is it?"

Pierre shot a quick glance at his nephew out of the corner of his eye. "Don't you feel it? The air's still and I don't hear a single bird. We're in for a storm. Could be t'e hurricane t'at was movin' along the coast is heading here."

Wryly, Paul said, "I never had your gift for forecasting the weather, you know t'at."

 _Nonc_ Pierre flashed a sharklike grin at him. "Take my word for it now, _sha_. T'e winds are changin'."

"If you say so, then let's go get the logs."

Paul went back into the shop and heaved up two jam-pikes, one of which he handed to Pierre. They headed for their pirogues. Overhead, a lone flycatcher tumbled in mid-air, driven on a sudden gust.

# # #

The stranger walked down the path towards the neat yellow one-story house. An observer might have had a little difficulty deciding if the man was young or old. The longish hair was brown, except for lighter strands here and there, which could have either been grey or lightened by the sun. Faint lines creased the tanned face and his eyes held an expression that was a little wary, perhaps even angry. He had a slight limp and one empty sleeve was pinned to his jacket.

He paused for a moment, then raised a calloused hand and knocked firmly on the door. Briefly, through the screen door, he heard a quiet step and an older woman in a blue housedress and an apron approached.

" _Oui_?" Her voice was warm, and she smiled at him.

"Yes, ma'am. Hello. I'm looking for Caj—I mean Paul. Paul LeMay."

The woman's smile widened. "Oh, did you serve with Paulie? In the Army?"

An indefinable something flickered over the man's face, and was gone, too quickly to put a name to. "Yes, ma'am. I did."

"Well, Paulie doesn't live here, but you're welcome to come in. I expect the family home any moment, and Paulie will be bringing his _nonc_ and _tante_ in for dinner." She opened the door wide and gestured for him to enter. A stiff breeze snatched at the door and the stranger caught it before it could slip from from her hand.

"Thank you, ma'am. If you're sure I'm not intruding."

"Not at all. I'm Annette LeMay, Paulie's mother."

"I'm –" he broke off as light footsteps pattered up the steps.

" _Memère_ , I'm here!"

" _Bonjour,_ Amélie. How was school?"

" _Ça s'est très bien_ _!_ " A girl of about 12 came in wearing a school uniform and carrying books.

"Amélie?" The stranger turned, slowly.

She gasped in recognition. "Billy? Billy, is that really you?" She only hesitated briefly, then ran to him and hugged him. He returned the hug, one-armed, and then stepped back.

Amelie chattered to her grandmother in French, rapid-fire. Annette put her hands up in mock self-defense.

" Amélie! Amélie, _arrêtez_! _Arrêtez_ , _chérie_. I don't suppose the gentleman speaks French. It's not polite, you know that."

"I'm sorry, _Memère_. I'm sorry, Billy – I mean, Mr. Nelson." She turned to the older woman. "I could take Mr. Nelson in my _pirogue_ out to _Nonc_ Pierre's."

Annette shook her head. "What your _Papa_ was thinking… Besides, _j'suis certaine_ you have homework to do, _ma 'tite_ – and you know how your father feels about that."

" _Oui_ – but I could do it when I get back?" Amelie wheedled.

" _Non_." Annette said firmly.

"Okay." She grinned at Billy. "I tried. But _Papa_ will be here soon."

"Thanks, Amelie."

# # #

Billy sat on the couch in the LeMay's living room. _So this is where Caje grew up_. He sipped at the lemonade Caje's mother had provided, along with a piece of an unfamiliar, but very good, cake. Caje's father had returned from work in the meantime and spoke with him briefly. Denis looked much older than he'd pictured him from Caje's stories about his family – older and tired.

After half an hour – Billy was sure he'd counted off every second by the ticking of the living room clock – he heard voices outside, put down the plate and stood. Amélie came from a back room and dashed past him.

" _Papa_! _Papa_!" She flew down the steps to hug an amused Paul. She stepped back, grabbed him by the hand and began towing him to the house. "You won't believe—"

"Were you going to greet _Nonc_ Pierre and _Tante_ Charlotte, _ma minette_?" Paul asked mildly.

"Of course! _Bonjour, Nonc_ Pierre, _Tante_ Charlotte! But, _Papa_ , you won't believe this!"

Caje stifled a smile, but his eyes twinkled with affectionate amusement. "I think you said that once before. What won't I believe?"

" _Regardez là, Papa_!" Amélie pointed toward the porch.

"Hello, Caje – I mean, Paul." Billy stood, shifting his weight awkwardly, nearly looking unsure of his welcome.

"Billy? _Mon Dieu,_ Billy! It's good to see you." Caje's grin was wide, but faded when he saw the empty sleeve. He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Ah, _sha_. I'm sorry."

Billy winced slightly. "Yeah."

Caje looked back to his aunt and uncle. " _Nonc_ Pierre, _Tante_ Charlotte, t'is is Billy Nelson. He was in my squad in France."

Pierre stepped up and shook the other man's hand. "We are pleased to meet you."

"Yes, sir."

Caje gestured to the house. "Come in, won't you? I'm sure _Maman_ has dinner ready."

Billy held back, reached out to touch the former scout's shoulder. "Caje. It's okay."

"Good," Caje didn't smile, but his eyes warmed. "Come in, Billy. Don't let's keep _la famille_ waiting. We can talk later."

# # #

"… and after all t'at, the cake wasn't more t'an crumbs!"

"And Littlejohn wrote me Sarge ordered him to dig latrines!"

Paul and Billy shared a laugh. They'd spent most of the meal telling wartime tales – those suitable for the dinner table, anyway.

Amélie looked between them like a spectator at a tennis match and finally contributed, " _Papa_ , I would have brought Mr. Nelson out in my _pirogue_ , but _Memère_ said I had to do my homework."

Paul smiled slightly and asked. "So did you?"

" _Mais oui_ , _Papa_!"

"Good."

Denis drew their attention, rubbing his hand against his chest.

" _Papa_? _Tu vas bien?"_

"I'm fine, Paul. Don't fuss."

" _Oui_ , _mais…_ "

"I said, I'm fine. That's enough." Father and son locked eyes over the table and there was an uncomfortable silence.

Annette stood. "Would anyone like coffee?"

Caje and Billy exited to the back porch. For a moment, Caje stood, looking at the sky. Finally, he sighed and sat down.

"I feel guilty, Billy. I didn't know about t'is."

Billy eyed him. "How could you?"

Caje shrugged uncomfortably. "After you left, Littlejohn kept us up on what was happening with you, but even that stopped eventually. I haven't kept up as much as I should have."

"Littlejohn and I quit writing back and forth for quite a while. I didn't catch up with him again until about two months ago."

"Really?" Caje's eyebrows went up. "I'd have t'ought…"

"I know. You would, wouldn't you?" He stared into the distance. "But it took me a couple of years to start to feel like myself, even a little. After the hospital, I even tried to go home and pretend that things were like they were before the war."

"You couldn't. I can't. Not'ing's t'e same."

"No."

The wind whistled around the corner as they settled back.

"Anyway. I've been traveling since. Working odd jobs, going – you know. Wherever the wind blows me." Billy stood up and leaned against the porch railing. "I keep thinking I should settle down, but when I do – even just thinking about it – I feel trapped. I don't know if I'll ever feel like staying in one place again."

He turned back to Caje. "Do you understand?"

" _Mais oui!_ My fat'er spent _beaucoup_ money sending me to Québec to school to learn how to become an architect." He squinted up at his friend. "Do you know how many buildings I've designed since I got back? None." Caje stood up and stretched. "T'e only places I'm really comfortable is t'e bayou and _Nonc_ Pierre's shop. I t'ink I'd go crazy if I had to work in an office."

Billy cocked his head as he heard a distant rumble of thunder. "Yeah. Even the little things - I used to like thunderstorms. Now they just remind me of artillery."

Caje gave a brief, humorless laugh. "T'at I understand. For a while, I used to do some guide work, take people out on t'e bayou to fish. _Papa_ saw it wasn't any good, me trying to fit into an office and he t'ought it might help. Some guy I took out one time whistled like incoming –" Billy winced "—and first I dropped into t'e bottom of t'e _pirogue_. T'en when he laughed I damn' near beat him up."

"I'm guessing that was the end of being a guide."

"Yeah. You know, I told my _nonc_ a lie today – he said we were in for bad weather. I said I couldn't forecast weather like he could. But I was hit in t'e leg so many times, I know  exactly when it's going to rain." He sighed. "Billy, what happened?" Caje flicked his head at the empty sleeve.

Billy was quiet for a moment. "That's what hurts the worst. It was just stupid – no heroic battle, no getting shot. We made it to Germany and camped out in a big old house. Three of us decided to go exploring and we found this room…" He trailed off, staring into the past.

 _The three GIs peered through the open door and hesitated._

" _I can't see a thing," Billy complained._

 _The corporal they called "Teddo" asked, "No one brought a light?"_

" _Nah," Billy said, "_ _I_ _didn't. Franklin?"_

" _Not a flash, no. But wait." The other two heard him fumbling around. His steps came towards them. "Guys? One of you got a lighter? I found a candle."_

" _Nah, you know me," Teddo joked. "I don't smoke, but I'm trying to start."_

 _Billy fished around in his pockets. "No lighter, but I have matches."_

" _Give 'em here." They heard the sound of a match being struck and suddenly there was flickering light. The room filled with the glitter of candlelight on glass._

 _Teddo whistled. "Willya look at that… Lotsa Kraut wine." He snatched at the nearest bottle and blew the dust off of it. "No – not Kraut. They stole this stuff from the Frenchies."_

" _Or they collected it before the war," Billy said. He walked through the racks and took a bottle. "_ Chateau Emilien _." He carefully sounded out the French words. "1932. Is that a good year?"_

" _How should I know?" Teddo started setting bottles aside. "Let's see, there's Sarge, and Mitch and Jimbo ..."_

 _Franklin came back from exploring the room. "Here's something helpful." He held up a corkscrew._

" _Gimme that." Billy snatched it out of his hand._

 _Franklin grinned and brought two more from behind his back. He tossed one to Teddo and grabbed his own bottle._

 _The three of them tore foil and twisted the corkscrews into place._

" _On three. One, two…"_

 _The resulting explosions brought the rest of the squad on the run. They also broke most of the wine bottles in the room, but the three men who had discovered them were in no condition to care about that…_

"T'ey didn't tell you guys about-?"

Billy shook his head. "How the Germans booby-trapped wine bottles? Aw, I don't know. Maybe they did, but we didn't pay attention or we weren't thinking. It doesn't really matter." He gestured at Caje with his hand. "Teddo and Franklin died right away. They said I was lucky, that I could have died, too. " He paused. "I wished I had, at least at first."

Caje let the silence pass for a bit. "You know Hanley didn't make it, _non_?"

"Yeah, Littlejohn told me." A tiny smile came to his face. "And he told me you made Sergeant by the end of the war."

The former scout shrugged. "Well, Sarge went home first – he'd been in Sicily and so on and he had more points t'an t'e rest of us. And by t'e time we got to Austria, t'ere really wasn't much left for me to do."

"But still… Do you hear from the others at all?"

"Doc writes. He went back to school, but not to become a doctor. One letter, he said t'at he had all the blood he could handle for t'e rest of his life and he didn't even want to nick himself shaving. He got a degree in divinity and he's a pastor for a church up in Missouri."

Billy smiled. "Yeah, that sounds like Doc. I -"

He broke off as Pierre and another, older, man came to the side porch. " _Pardon._ Paulie, s _ha_ , sorry to interrupt, but t'e river is rising and t'ey need us in t'e settlement to fill sandbags."

Caje and Billy put their glasses down. "Let's go," Caje said. He spoke in French to the older man, who nodded and looked at Billy.

"Billy, t'is is my _Papére_ , my grandfat'er, Andre LeMay."

"Sir." He nodded at Andre. "Caje, I want to help. Even if I can't do anything else, I can bring you all water while you're working."

"I'm coming, too." Denis came around the house to them. Paul, Pierre and Andre looked at him. Caje reached out a hand.

" _Papa,_ maybe t'at's not such a good idea…"

Denis' glared at his son. "Don't patronize me, Paul. I'm perfectly capable of filling sandbags." He walked past the others to the shed behind the house and took out a shovel.

Paul silently appealed to Andre and Pierre.

His _nonc_ shook his head. "Don't look at me. He never listens to me anyway."

Andre shook his head silently and Paul sighed.

"We're wasting time. _Allons-y_!" Denis walked away, shouldering his shovel.

Andre shrugged. "You heard him."

Five hours and clouds full of rain later, Paul rose from his crouch and stretched. He glanced down at the man who had worked beside him for nearly the whole time. "Sorry, Joe. I'll get back on it."

" _C'est bien,_ Paulie. I need t' stretch _aussi_."

Far down the shore, Paul saw Marcel and Thierry DuBois, Theo's father and uncle, lifting yet another sandbag on the pile already in front of them. They finished, and Thierry wiped his face, glancing at Denis and shaking his head. He was Denis' oldest friend and had spent a good ten minutes trying to talk Paul's father into help with the evacuations of the already flooding settlement. Denis had refused. Paul caught sight of his father, leaning heavily on his shovel, perspiring, face grey. " _Tabernac, Papa_ ," he muttered.

Joe grinned at him. " _Tabernac?"_

Caje glanced at Joe out of the corner of his eye and then looked back at his father. " _Sacres_ from Québec. Can't let Father Ant'ony hear me." He walked to Denis and firmly grasped the shovel in the older man's hand.

"Paul!"

" _Papa_ , for once, you're gonna listen to me. No one –" he lowered his voice "no one is gonna t'ink any less of you for going to sit down for a bit."

Denis' hand tightened on the shovel. For a moment, father and son each struggled to pull it away from the other. Finally, Denis released it with a shuddering breath. " _Merde,_ Paul! Who t'ell put you in charge?"

"It's not about being 'in charge', _Papa_. It's about common sense. T'e doc is stretched thin enough, what wit' Madame Breaux expecting and all t'e other people who are already ill. He doesn't need to have to spend time fixing you up, too."

"I'm not no damn' invalid, Paul!"

Paul sighed. "I never said you were –"

"Caje!" The two men started as Billy yelled. He pointed across the river, where three or four men were waving.

Denis snatched the shovel away while Caje was distracted and walked to the bank of the river. The men on the other bank became more agitated and began shouting again.

Caje focused, but the roar of the water drowned out their voices. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled to his _Nonc_. "Can you make out what they're saying?"

Pierre listened intently and then shook his head. " _Non, pas vraiment_!"

Billy walked forward, and Andre, Pierre and Caje followed him. "It sounds like 'bear say fonder'? 'Bearzhe' something?"

Pierre's eyes widened. "The riverbank! It's undercut! We need to get –"

They didn't have time to move - the ground beneath their feet crumbled and fell into the river, and they went with it.

Caje surfaced first. He grabbed the passing fragment of a crate and struggled to stay balanced on it and keep his head above water. He tossed his head back energetically, trying to get his wet hair out of his face.

Something heavy hit him from the right; gripping the wood more firmly, he reached out to find a body. From the clothing, he knew it was Pierre. He pulled his _nonc_ to him, fought to turn Pierre over and get his face out of the water. For a heart-stopping moment, Paul saw Pierre's grey face and closed eyes and was sure his uncle was dead. Then he was able to grip him around the middle with one arm and squeezed. Pierre twitched and began coughing up water.

"Now what?" Paul muttered.

Pierre looked Paul in the eye. "Now what is you let me go and I swim back to shore myself while you do the same."

"T' hell wit' t'at!"

Pierre wearily arched an eyebrow at Paul. "I'm tellin' Denis how you talk!"

"Forgot I'm not nine years old any more?"

"You're acting like it, Paulie. No sense in both of us going down."

Paul's lips thinned in anger and his jaw set. "Just stay put."

"Paulie!" Joe Caissy was pacing them from the riverbank, a coil of rope in his hand. He fought to make himself heard. "Paulie, I'm gonna t'row t'is to you! I got a piece of metal on t'e end – you grab it and I pull you in!"

Joe tried several times, and Paul began to think they'd never connect. Finally, Joe hooked the piece of crate and managed, with the help of Ti-Jean Gautreaux, to tow the two men to shore at a point past the sandbags.

"Damn, _sha_. I t'ought for sure _vous tous_ were gone." Fear and relief flicked in Joe's eyes.

"You and me, both, _mon ami_." Paul reached out and clasped Joe's shoulder. " _Merci. Merci beaucoup._ "

The LeMay men staggered away from the already-treacherous riverbank, and Pierre collapsed. Ti-Jean got him up, and Paul, who had waved off Joe's help, supported the older man on his other side.

"Paulie?" Pierre said, with the expression of a man asking a question he didn't really want answered. "What about _Papa_ and Denis? And your friend?"

Paul exchanged a look with Joe and Ti-Jean. Joe shrugged, but Ti-Jean said, "I saw t'em get caught by t'e current – t'ey were away before we could catch up to t'em."

"I don't know, _Nonc_ Pierre. I got to hope they're okay."

But they weren't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wherever the Wind Blows**

 _Chapter 2_

Billy went under when the riverbank collapsed. He struggled to get his head above water and managed it with help. When he could see again, he realized Denis was his rescuer.

On his left, he could see Caje's grandfather, gamely struggling to stay with them. He went under, and Billy flailed through the strong current to bring him back up, coughing. He hooked his arm through the older man's, and tugged him towards a good-sized branch.

Then it was Denis' turn to sink. Billy fought to help him. When Denis surfaced again, Billy winced. "You're looking ill. Are you okay?" he asked, as he towed him toward the branch.

Denis' expression hardened. "I am fine. There is nothing wrong with me."

On the branch, Andre coughed. " _Bien sûr, mon fils."_

Denis glared at his _papa_ , and Billy laughed. The older men looked at him. He could see they were wondering what he could possibly find amusing in the circumstances.

"Sorry. He looked just like Caje, I mean, Paul, for a minute. You could never get him to admit he was hurt and if anyone pushed him, he'd look just like you did." He smiled a little at Denis and earned a weak chuckle from Andre, who said, "Ah, t'ey were always two of a kind. T'at's why t'ey always fought."

"Was he brave?"

"What?" Billy looked at Denis in surprise. For a moment, his vision blurred. He shook his head, trying to clear his eyes.

"Paulie? Was he brave?"

"Always." Billy paused. "And a good friend, a good person – always cared about people. And a good soldier, the best." He looked at his stump. "In the end, a better soldier than I was." His tone was bitter.

"I know you did good, _sha_." André patted his arm and smiled dimly. "You came back. Not like you wanted maybe. But Paulie came back different too. Only on the inside. T'important t'ing is you  did come back." On Billy's right, Denis, grey and tired, nodded, and focused on staying connected to the branch.

"Are you all right?" Denis managed to ask. "You look as though you have blood in your hair."

Billy reached back to where his head was definitely sore. When he brought his hand back, he could see blood on it. "Oh. Guess I hit my head on something." A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he went back under the river. Andre and Denis grabbed him again, but he wasn't conscious to realize it, or to hear the sound of rescuers along the bank.

x-x-x

He awoke to quiet voices and the sensation of a hammer rhythmically pounding on the inside of his skull. For a moment, Billy felt like just going back to sleep, but he felt a hand on his forehead. Fingers pried his eyes open and he squinted painfully against a bright light."

"Stay still, _sha_. You've got a concussion."

"I know it's a cliché, but where am I?"

A stout, greying man moved to stand where Billy could see him. "You're in a hospital in Slidell. Before you ask, you've been out for the better part of three days."

Billy closed his eyes again. _Three days? Good thing I didn't have any plans._ The last thing he could recall was hanging onto the tree branch with the others, and … _the others!_ His eyes snapped back open and he looked at the doctor.

"The others? Sir, how are they?"

The doctor's expression was grave. "You don't have to call me 'sir', _sha_." He put the little flashlight in a pocket in his vest. "As far as t' others you were in the river with – well, I think you should talk to Paulie. I'll call him and tell him you're awake." He waved to a nurse. "Bring this _ti-gar_ some water and give him those pills I prescribed."

"Yes, doctor."

"And do your best to keep him awake!"

The nurse came with a glass of water and two small pills in a paper cup. "Here you go."

He took the pills and the water. "Thank you."

Despite Billy's best intentions, and the nurse's best efforts, he fell back asleep, dreaming of barely-seen rescuers throwing wine bottles that fell in the water and then exploded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Wherever The Wind Blows**

 **Chapter 3**

"Billy." A tap. "Billy."

"C'mon, ma … I need to sleep some more."

There was a soft snort from over his head. _Ok, that didn't sound like my mother._ He forced his eyes open, and found Caje and Amelie standing beside his bed. Caje was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a dark tie. Amelie's dress was black as well. Suddenly Billy remembered and came fully awake.

Caje spoke quietly to Amelie and she sat in the chair by the bed, eyes red-rimmed. She forced a small smile and patted Billy on the shoulder.

The former scout's eyes were dark and a little sunken.

"Caje, I don't .."

"Shh." He patted Billy's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty tired. Bad headache."

"You took a good whack _sur la tète_." Caje put his hand on the back of his head. "Sorry, on the head. When we found the three of you, you had just sunk back under the water. I thought we'd lost you."

"Well, thanks for getting me out."

Caje nodded. His throat worked and Billy could tell he needed to say something painful. His stump was hurting and he adjusted it, delaying what he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"Thank you for staying with _papa_ and _pépère_."

Billy shook his head. "I need to thank your father. He saved my life." Suddenly, Billy was afraid, thinking of Denis' grey pallor and struggles to stay afloat. "Oh, Caje … he didn't?"

" _Oui_ , " Caje sighed. "Billy, he'd been ill for so long and he was too stubborn to admit it. Doc thinks he probably had another heart attack and … "

"I wish I could have done more."

"T'ere were men out there with two good arms who didn't do as much as you did. You have not'ing to be sorry for."

"Is your grandfather all right?"

Caje shook his head and grinned faintly. " _Mais oui!_ _Pépère's_ a tough old bird – don't tell him I said that – and he's going to be fine."

Billy was silent, a medley of thoughts chasing themselves through his head. His head dropped to his chest and he looked at Caje's hand on his. He remembered the scout having long, lean, smooth hands – now, they were calloused and worn from work. _Just one more thing about how life changes us, I guess._ He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. _Who knows more about changing than I do?_ "I'm sorry."

"Billy." The former scout's voice was gentle. "Billy, look at me."

His eyes met Caje's and then drifted away from the scout's face.

"You don't get to blame yourself for this. I won't let you and neither will anyone else. I thank you for what you did. And you saved _Pépère_."

"I would have liked to have saved them both." Billy looked at his empty sleeve. "One more thing I can chalk up to my stupidity." He dashed a tear from his eye. "Hell! I don't even LIKE wine. Sorry", he said quickly, looking at Amelie.

She giggled. "T'at's ok. I t'ink Keerby used to say t'at sometimes."

That earned a chuckle from both men. "Once or twice, perhaps," Caje said.

"A day," Billy riposted.

They laughed again, softly, and then grew sober.

"I don't know what I'm going to do now."

"Well, you have to stay here at the hospital for at least two or t'ree more days. Then you're coming home with us so we can keep an eye on you for a while."

Amelie nodded emphatically. "I will take care of you and make sure you are _bien_."

"Yes, ma'am." He and Caje exchanged a humorous look over her head.

Paul laughed again. "You think she's kidding, but she's not."

x-x-x

Billy sat on the porch of Caje's home. He and Amelie were taking turns dropping a net to catch shrimp.

"Here you are. Your turn."

He smiled at the little girl and took the net. "Do we have enough yet?"

" _Non_. We need more," the little girl said firmly.

"You must be hungry." He smiled at her and dropped the net again.

"Billy," Amelie said. " _Papa_ said  lots of shrimp."

The bayou was full of sounds. Slowly, over the time he'd spent there, he'd learned to make sense of what he was hearing. Not that he'd spent all his time on the water. They'd all been running back and forth between Caje's house and the settlement, where Caje, Amelie, Caje's sister and husband and their children spent as much time as they could with a surprisingly brave Annette. Caje's friend Joe Caissy stopped by. And Caje had spent time away, too. Billy assumed he'd been with his _Nonc_ Pierre and his grandfather, but he wasn't sure.

And today, Caje had left early and in a hurry, not dressed in his usual rough denim jeans and work shirt.

"Amelie, where did your dad go this morning?"

She gave him a sidelong look and shrugged. " _Je sais pas._ "

"Are you sure about that?"

"He doesn't tell me everything, you know."

"Right." He pulled the net up and emptied it in the bucket between them. "Here. More shrimp?"

She gave a definite nod. "More shrimp!"

x-x-x

The light had nearly faded from the sky. The porch of Caje's house was lit by a string of round light bulbs, which danced in the breeze and were reflected off the water in the large kettle merrily boiling away.

"So the potatoes went in first? And then what?" Billy took a drink of his beer.

"We add the seasoning, onions, garlic and lemons. Then we let it boil." _Nonc_ Pierre suited his words to his actions as the last two lemon halves hit the water.

"I can't imagine my dad cooking, but it seems like everyone does here."

Pierre grinned widely. "It's a Cajun t'ing, _sha_. Annette's a fine cook, but Denis used to take over, especially on the weekends. _Papa_ taught me and I taught Paulie."

Billy turned away, distracted by a quiet splash on the water. "Hey, Caje's back."

The pirogue turned toward the dock, and Billy realized his friend wasn't alone. As he pulled up to the stair, Billy recognized the two men in the boat with Caje, and he nearly dropped his bottle.

"Littlejohn! Doc?"


End file.
